


Keep Your Head Up, Keep Your Love

by hummingrightalong, itslifethatscaresmetodeath



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Character Death, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Psychological Trauma, Trauma, aaric - Freeform, baby gracie, jaaron - Freeform, jaaron is endgame, relationship trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingrightalong/pseuds/hummingrightalong, https://archiveofourown.org/users/itslifethatscaresmetodeath/pseuds/itslifethatscaresmetodeath
Summary: The progression of Jesus and Aaron's relationship through individual moments, friendship, and eventually romance.First few chapters are going to be painful.





	1. Another Hero, Another Mindless Crime

**Author's Note:**

> There will likely be timeline/canon fuckery in this fic...as if I need to warn anyone reading my fics that they're all canon divergent ;)

He didn’t think this would affect him this much.

At first it doesn’t. His main concern is helping Tara through this, not letting her make another mistake she can’t come back from. He knows what these people did to her, what they took. How irreplaceable that is. But another death, especially of a man that looks scared, is begging for...well, sanctuary. Help, mercy.

Above all else, be merciful.

When the time calls for it Jesus is not above giving back what is deserved. And it quickly becomes apparent that this Savior, Dean, deserves almost anything he gets. 

As Dean’s arm squeezes Jesus’ throat, his hand *slips* (maybe, probably not) brushing over his chest. His body is pinned and as he’s trying to put what he’s willing to classify as an accident out of his mind, he feels the man’s hips roll. Catalogues all the disgusting things he says to Tara, about her friend that he holds helpless...and realizes he’s made a mistake. But he can’t let her know that.

He pushes the man, just verbally, while pinning Tara with his eyes, willing her to understand. He’s smelling his hair, face deep in the back of his neck enough so that he can feel Dean *smile* for his efforts.

He even adds an extra edge of terror to his voice when he reminds her again and again that the man has a gun to his head.

She reacts with all the training she’s received and her natural instinct, ducking and turning away when the savior’s gun is pointed at her instead of Jesus, trusting him to grab the man’s wrist and tilt it so the bullet fires into the ceiling. They take the man down together, and he admits to himself with what usually he’d find slightly disappointing - it felt fucking good to knock him on his ass and bitch slap him with that pistol.

Later on he’ll do what his masters of the martial arts told him to do- let whatever it is stay deep down and rely on your instincts until you have the moment to allow them to come to the surface. They need to be dealt with as much as the opponent- but not at the same time.

He knows they meant to explore, to heal and seek help if needed. But he’d been quiet, he’d healed and licked his wounds on his own. 

He’d thought that helping from the inside out at the Sanctuary a while back didn’t effect him because the results were worth it and both he and their leader knew he didn’t want it or want to be there. Still, as Dean rolled his hips against him, copped a feel while holding him by the throat him and used him as a damn human shield- it all came rushing together and the only thing that had kept him in the moment was saving Tara from herself.

It was worth it. It never wouldn’t be. Everything he did to save their communities was worth it. Even Negan. But that’s a lot to unpack.


	2. Killer Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus thinks it's time Aaron has closer, helping him find Eric's walker and lay him to rest.

Aaron has been lost. It’s easy enough to see. 

His friends at Alexandria have their own ways of comforting him, or just pretending everything is fine and moving on.

Jesus works alongside the other man enough to know that’s not the answer. That *never* should be the answer. The living and the dead deserve the closure. Besides, maybe the others don’t see it. 

Except Daryl, who looks sadly at Aaron when he refuses even his odd words of comfort...he’s not the best at it but it seems to be what Aaron needs to keep going in the moment, and then they’re right back to zero.

The thought that something needed to be done, that he should be the one to do it, happens not by accident but by carefully surveying the area and noticing something he wonders if Aaron hasn’t already known for weeks. 

Sometimes the dead don’t wander far from their homes. Aaron had watched him walk away and assumed he’d get lost in some group of them, probably did (*definitely* did, according to the occasional comments and panicked looks when faced with a hoard) become a part of one of the swarms of them. Jesus knows from just the look on his face that he sees him everywhere, probably in his dreams too but that seems inappropriate to ask until the deed is done.

So he grabs a rifle, and walks into the couple’s home, finding Aaron taking a rare quiet moment to stare off into space and hold one of Eric’s belongings.

“Come on.”

“What-” 

He doesn’t give the blond time to finish, just pulls him along to the outer walls of Alexandria and points into the distance. Aaron holds out his arms for the rifle slung over Jesus’ shoulder. “No, I’ll handle this. You can take him home but this you shouldn’t have to do. You should never have to handle your demons on your own. Not when you love them, anyhow.”

Aaron agrees, mostly in a choked sob instead of a verbal acknowledgement. 

Jesus takes a note out of Dixon’s book, whistling at the lone walker and willing the tears away himself. He’d only met the man a few times, been invited in for dinner and heard engaging stories about ‘the before times’. He’d even been allowed into their record collection, as the guest getting first choice. Queen of course. He even remembers that it was one of Eric’s picks, as a gay icon and an incredible man with an incredible range they both appreciated him. And the redhead appreciated the mural Jesus couldn’t help but show him tattooed on the scavengers leg from thigh to ankle.

“Come on, Eric…” He gets close, and he can almost feel Aaron thinking about closing the distance. The shot rings out; the martial artist’s aim good enough to make one shot count and his feet fast enough to catch the body. He falls on his knees, supporting the body as best as he can and calls to Eric’s widower. “I’m sorry, I can’t carry him back.”

“It’s ok. Come here baby.” Aaron lifts the body, cradling his head gently, his other arm under his knees. All the way back home. 

Jesus runs slightly ahead, alerting their friends that there will be a funeral. He asks Aaron if he minds Gabriel heading the service. Aaron shrugs, relating that neither had been that religious. The brunette is sure to mention that.

***

Rick and Daryl are the first out, helping Aaron when he can’t stand any longer, when he stiffens and falls to his knees, setting the body down. They all dig the grave, Daryl carves his friend’s name into a cross. 

***

The turn out is surprising, and the speeches go on for longer than anyone expected. Everyone knew something worth being grateful for, everyone had a memory to celebrate this life. 

When it came time to wrap it up, everyone looked to someone to start a song. 

It may not have been perfect, but Jesus remembers that evening, drunk on wine and relating to the other 2 of 4 gay men he knew of in the end of the world. They were casual acquaintances, but had gotten friendly over wine and music. 

“Killer Queen” may not have been perfect, but it left a surprisingly warm feeling in his and evidently Aaron’s heart when most of the attenders knew the words, sang along as Jesus played acoustic guitar to accompany it. 

***

“I’m sorry...that’s all I could think of.” Jesus says, walking Aaron back home. There’s an unspoken understanding that the former will be staying the night. Aaron had rolled his eyes, not pretending he hadn't heard the discussion, seen the worry on Rick and Daryl’s face.

“He would’ve loved it. Not just because it was his favorite of theirs...he wouldn’t want things to be too serious.”

“I thought so...I mean, obviously you knew him better....but I got that.”


	3. Looks Like Cinnamon Roll, Is Actually A Cinnamon Roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus keeps Aaron (platonic!) company after the funeral

After the funeral there’s a general understanding that Aaron isn’t going home alone. The question is, who was going to stay with him. Daryl and Rick were fine with the idea, but they had the kids to consider, who might be more of a hindrance than a help.

Mrs. Neudermeyer would’ve been glad to, but who would put the man through another trial after a day like that (even coming off the back of, holy shit she’d known the words to the song Jesus had just sang and could belt it out pretty impressively-knew when best to come in and everything...).

Jesus shot *Sheriff* Grimes a look and related that he had no reason to be back at Hilltop for a while. Technically, he was considering this a run anyway. And a welfare check or an overnight stay, with Alexandria’s recruiter/go-to guy was exactly the kind of mission Maggie ought to look kindly on. She was in the same boat after all, and not that it was any kind of priority, but having him back on the run would be best for everyone.

First and foremost, the guy needed a friend. Perhaps a slightly less familiar face would be the best kind of company.

***

It goes pretty smoothly when Jesus suggests that he could use a little company. Aaron looks at the rest of his friends heading home after paying their respects. He thanks them.

Turning to Jesus after he hadn’t so much invited himself over as suggested that the other man shouldn’t be alone, Aaron cracks something close to a joke.

“I’m not going to kill myself because he’s gone. It’s been weeks anyway. If I was going to, you’d all be too late.” Jesus places a hand on the taller man’s shoulder and keeps pace with him, gently leading him through his own doorway.

“I think they’ve already been watching...Besides, I doubt he would’ve wanted that for you?” He’d only met the man a few times but who would love someone *not enough* to want them to keep going when they were gone. Wasn’t that what the word meant? To care for someone more than yourself?

“No, he’d be haunting me right now if I even considered it.” Aaron laughs, busying himself around the kitchen. He might as well feed his guest. “Right before...the last time we spoke he told me to get my ass up and keep fighting.”

“I can tell you believe he didn’t just mean the war?” The shorter man works around the other without ever getting in the way, almost intuitively knowing what he’s going for and where, what he needs done to assist him in preparing a light meal. He absent-mindedly considers that maybe Jesus is used to trying to stay out of other people’s way for better or worse...he wonders what everyone ends up wondering at one point or another…*just who the HELL were you before this?*

Before Aaron knows what’s hit him, he’s sat on the couch, watching Jesus finish cooking while he brings him bites of the process to sample.

“Of course not.” Aaron sighs, a smile not quite reaching his eyes but he does look less weighed down than he has in a long time. “I really want to thank you. You did everything right for him. He wouldn’t have wanted that to be sombre and depressing. And now...I think I can rest easier.”

“I thought that about him. I mean...of course you would know better than me. So I’m happy you said so. And...since we’re getting all this out- bad dreams?” Aaron relates that ever since Eric had gone he’d dreamt of his walker wandering into their bedroom, eating him while he slept. “Gruesome. You think you can sleep up there tonight? I was going to take the couch if you don’t mind.”

“Yes, I think I can. And...did you ever really have a choice?” The blond jokes, getting ready to sleep off what seems likes a marathon of fighting and pain. He does feel lighter. And exhausted. Sleeping alone has been hell and he almost wants to ask Jesus to come with him but...well, there’s no way that would sound as innocent as it was.

“I imagine Rick has finally put the gun down that he threatened to watch me with. But that was never the reason I decided to stay. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“He threatened to shoot you?” Aaron asks, annoyed, making an attempt to get to the porch window and have a look for himself. Jesus stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, but since when would I ever worry about that? I outran both of them, *armed* with *my* truck when we met.” That earns a laugh. “The only things you need to worry about are getting some good rest, and the mess Daryl is likely making on your porch cleaning rabbits.” This time the smaller man steps aside. Sure enough, Rick is dozing on a wicker rocking chair and Daryl has a string of small animals slung around his shoulder, cleaning and separating the meat.

“Oh...gross. Fuck it, I’ll deal with it in the morning. I’m exhausted. Thanks again.”

“Don’t thank me, friend.”

***

They had become tenuous friends through the way and their mutual responsibilities to their communities.

When Aaron shuffles into the kitchen, a comforter wrapper around him, hair a mess and eyes red, Jesus pats a spot on the couch next to him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t sleep alone...it’s killing me. You mind sitting up with me?”

“Of course. Haven’t dropped off yet anyway.” The scavenger holds up a book.

“Tell me a story?” Another weak effort to crack a joke from the widower...maybe a little bit of a fishing trip. It’s a distraction, maybe focusing on Jesus will help put...other things off his mind.

“I don’t know any stories I can tell that maybe won’t make you feel as miserable but I’ll try.” Jesus does his best to distract Aaron, telling him first and foremost that there *is* a life after this, when he’s ready. “You’re not the only gay left in the village. Well...this village maybe - except Daryl...Rick kinda (?) - but you’re not alone and you won’t be lonely forever. I know you’re determined to be that way for now, and I couldn’t possibly understand, but I sympathize.”

The Hilltop runner relates his experiences back home; first, a night when the Saviors let a hoard in just to show they could, just to frighten them, and how even that was probably his fault because he believed Gregory allowed it if not set it up. He was halfway into a tryst with Kal and Eduardo when Maggie screamed for help.

He talks about how he didn’t exactly go *out of his way* to make runs and trades with the Kingdom to see Zeke or Daniel.

“It was before his Queen! There’s a lot of room in that throne. And Jerry is more than happy to ‘walk the cat’, so to speak. And before you say that Daniel was a baby, he came onto me. Aggressively. A few days after he turned 18. Well...adorably aggressively. He asked me to ‘pick his flower’ because that’s what my hair smells like. It’s an extract by the way. Makes it shiny. He is a goddamn natural.”

“Do you...have some kind of baggage? I’m not sure how else to ask that without sounding judgemental or insulting but…”

“No! you're right! my first boyfriend was like, 30. I was...16. and sexually active for a year...oh god your face...how old were you?

“...a teenager?”

“18, right? great...ok, so, here's the thing, I was one of those people...I always had to be *with* someone. I had a *lot* of shitty boyfriends and what you and Eric had...I kinda hate you for it. that's awful. I'm an awful person.”

“How many? You don’t have to say! I'm an ass…” Jesus laughs and shakes his head. He's ok.

“From 16 to 30, when the world ended? I need both hands if I'm counting. Baggage? ok, yeah, I mean, I guess I did before all this you know. I mean, I was always one of those people that had to *be with someone* but they never worked out, not like I didn’t try like hell. And yeah, the guys were always the shittiest human beings, I’m a douche bag magnet...some of them smacked me around. Ignored me. Made some pretty sick demands and threatened to leave when I even hesitated. There was even this one that wanted me in lingerie all the time...Ya know, I know Tae Kwon do, Muay Thai, karate, Aikido...and I just kinda *let* a lot of dudes go away with *way* too much. Not the easiest thing to do…” Jesus starts talking and just...doesn’t stop which is kinda weird for him but feels ok. Kinda good. Then he looks up and Aaron’s face…”Oh, God, shit. I’m sorry. My bullshit cannot be doing any good. Do you...need a hug? I swear I'm not coming on to you... I *am* a total skank, Alex is right about me but I'm ok with that, I needed something awful before and maybe I'm gross now but I'm weirdly proud of myself for taking what I want instead of living to please others... ”

“Oh my god...do *you* need a hug?”

“Well, you’ve been practically in my lap snotting into my button down since you came down stairs but if it’ll make you feel better. Because I'm fine.” Jesus smiles gently. 

Aaron wraps his arms around him, pulling back a little quick. “That was...if that was too forward.”

“Not at all."

“Stay with me tonight...I mean, like...upstairs? I’m not making a pass or anything I just…”

“I wouldn’t assume you were cinnamon roll.” Jesus smirks, puts a finger to his lips and leads Aaron to his front window again. Daryl and Rick are passed out, sat up leaning against each other with their backs to the railing of the porch. “There’s stranger things going on than you having a difficult time getting used to sleeping alone. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You are *correct*.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 finally has an AO3!
> 
> Next chapters will be getting together chapters and possibly some smut...


	4. From Niagra Falls To The Florida Keys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus and Aaron seal the deal, in more ways than one.

It’s been weighing on his mind, not just since last night but a long time now. There’s one person that Aaron can always go to and without fail, get the straight and narrow (so to speak lol). He’ll tell him exactly what he needs to hear, wanted or not.

“Daryl can we talk?” He’s catching the hunter off guard, working on his bike with his back turned. He knows it’s the only way and Aaron considers it a damn good brag that he was able to surprise him. Or maybe not...because Daryl sighs, like he’d been waiting for it. Damn.

 

“Oh god…” Daryl says, turning to see the blond’s face. It’s a mix of emotions, not Daryl’s strong suit and being that open when the kids need him to be or Rick goes a little too far off the rails is enough. 

 

“C'mon, I'll never ask again I promise…” Their eyes meet, both knowing damn well this promise has already been broken. The hunter gives his scouting partner a pointed look. “You're my best friend.” When bribery is bullshit, try tugging at heartstrings that Daryl pretends not to have...this man, like no other, has forced Aaron to dig deep into the bag of his dirtiest tricks.

 

“You need to get out more…” Daryl warns in his self-depreciating way but shrugs - good sign! “Fine,” he says. “What about?” Sometimes everyone around there seemed to consider him psychic, and yes, he’d noticed the couple across the road. Even if that wasn’t necessarily what they were calling themselves yet he’d seen the signs. Not to mention Jesus was in Alexandria staying in that house every free fucking moment. But he wasn’t letting Aaron get off (heh) that easy.

“What?” Awkward and nervous as ever. Yep. This was about *him*.

Daryl rolls his eyes. “What. Do. You. Want. To. Bother. Me. About.” A wink. “Best friend.”

 

“Jesus?”

 

“The fuck?”

 

“Not that Jesus.” Daryl is reminded of one of their first conversations, when Aaron had nervously told the new group they could ‘call’ anytime, meaning that his home was four houses down from where they stood. He’d fucked that up pretty good. “Our Jesus. I like him. I think I do.”

“You fuck him?” Being used to Daryl’s blunt conversational-isms, Aaron soldiers on. 

“Yeah. He said it did *have* to be anything.” 

Daryl sighs, throws down some rags on his project and stands to face the blond. “Said the same to Rick. Just tell him dumbass.”

“Because you said that and now you're practically an old married couple with a white picket fence, a dog and 2 kids...you even shower regularly.” Daryl fixes him with a look and Aaron knows his point’s been made but a further push might mean finding himself pushed. off a ledge. “You’re right. I’m a dumbass”

“Never doubted it.”

“You’re the best friend I've ever had Daryl.”

“That you've wanted a threesome with? Like I was sayin. you need to get out more…”

***

At first it’s conversations, it’s secrets that they’ve never told anyone. Definitely for Jesus, who has kept his personal life close and quiet since the world as he knew it ended. Maggie and Sasha had opened him up a bit but this is different. He knows it almost the second he meets Aaron...Anyway, he’s been alone a long time but that’s not the reason.

Weeks into their time getting to know one another, traveling together, and when Daryl isn’t accompanying them on a threeway (Aaron can’t help but giggle and Daryl can’t stop from oversharing why) scavenger hunt for food, supplies, new people who might fit in any one of their communities- there’ve begun stealing kisses in the moments of silence between hiding and hunting.

No one is sure who started it first; both would easily take the blame. They’re like that. It’s something they have in common. Taking the blame or responsibility - whichever fits, both maybe...

After an exceptionally long time out, they realize Alexandria is closer and crash at Aaron’s house. Jesus had told him during the extended time out what his favorite meal was and the blond was determined to make it. 

As they’re sitting to eat, staring almost stupidly into each other’s eyes, the Hilltop scavenger speaks up between the cute little noises of appreciation he makes at his...whatever they are. “Your eyes...they remind me of Niagara falls.”

“You know...I’ve been kind of stressing, trying to find a comparison to yours…” Aaron recalls a comment, Jesus brushing it off once…’blue, green, you decide’ when asked what color those damn things were. “I figured it out. They’re the exact color of the Florida Keys.”

“I don’t know what that says about me…Florida man?” Jesus jokes.

“It says your eyes are beautiful. And Key Lime Pie was my favorite. So there’s a lot of good coming from that.”

Those eyes light up, and after they both pass out talking on the couch Jesus is gone. A note on the table says to meet him at Hilltop in two weeks.

Exactly on time as requested, Aaron was greeted with a freshly baked Key Lime Pie. How the man acquired and managed to pull off what he’d always considered too difficult a dish to attempt at home was beyond him. He felt his heart swell with every bite. For the first time, his jealous side remains silent. So what if he probably had to go to the Kingdom for key limes...where Daniel and Zeke live...he baked him a fucking pie. That says *something* that all but erases *that* history. And maybe leaves him feeling a tiny bit smug.

***

Jesus can’t believe what he’s found; there was a while there where even his new philosophy on loving himself didn’t allow him to go too far with this new romance, but he deserved it. And he could tell, could *really tell* he made Aaron as happy as Aaron made him. 

When they kissed, when they fucked, the pillow talk...hell, the dinner table conversation. No man had ever seemed that genuinely interested in any of the ‘silly’ words coming out of his ‘pretty mouth’, let alone seemingly fucking enamoured by every fibre of his being. He was starting to fall for him. Hard. He was in so much trouble and he was ready to weather the storm.

***

It’s not like they haven’t already learned every inch of one another. Still, Aaron takes his time. 

They’d come in, hot and bothered from a hunt and a heavy make out session. At first, the blond had slammed him against the wall in the room at Barrington (it was roomier than his trailer and the guy was *huge*). As soon as they’re stripping, the taller man explores and kisses every inch, smiling against bare skin when the reaction is good, laughing when something tickles and the smaller man jumps.

They’re naked, and he’s been working Jesus open, getting him ready while he breathed heavily with his head pressed against the wall and the taller man pressed against his back. 

Aaron spins him around, lifts him effortlessly, and carries him to bed. Lying on his back, hair fanned out around his head, like a goddamn halo, looking half fucked out and this is nowhere near from over. 

With the men in the past, that would have been a bad omen, but as Aaron settles between his legs and Jesus wraps them around the bigger man’s hips while impatiently guiding his cock inside, he can’t wait for it to *never end*. If that makes any sense. 

None of this makes sense. Maybe even *they* don’t make sense. Then they match rhythms, slow, and gentle, and painfully good. He’d stay like this forever. They never lose eye contact and Jesus never comes second anywhere in this relationship. Half of his former lovers - before the infection (seems like the men who’d survived were more considerate at least). He could get used to this.

When it’s all over, and they’re laying there, facing each other, Aaron’s fingers running through Jesus’ hair he seems jittery, a little nervous, as if he’s steeling himself for something. He takes a breath. “I think I’m falling for you.”

Jesus smiles, sleepy and serene, twisting a blond curl around his finger. He giggles when it springs back into place and then, “Yeah, I think this one is going to work,” he says. He knows what’s coming next but he’s still not confident enough to say it first.

“I love you.” Aaron says shyly but with certainty.

“I love you too,” he replies not missing a beat. He’s said it before but out of desperation. This feels like being purified, closer to God than he ever though he’d be.

This is his endgame. All the shit was worth it to get to this point, right here, with this man.


	5. What To Expect When You're Expecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written entirely by my <3  
> Jesus struggles with a new addition...but he's coming around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline fuckery. As usual. 
> 
> We've made sure a few more people have lived which you'll notice/see in future chapters.  
> Some deaths are necessary. Daniel and Jerry dying weren't.  
> Shiva is still alive. Fuck them for killing the cat.

It’s over. Saviors defeated. Negan secure in his prison cell. At least he better be. Paul won't say it but he agrees with Maggie. He won't say it to Rick either. It’s not his decision. Part of him feels like it should be, at least a little, but he’s not going to say that aloud.

Things start to change. The Sanctuary is stabilizing. A lot of them are just happy to be out from under Negan’s thumb To say they’re cooperative would be an understatement.

He doesn't really have time to think about all this. Because along with everything else Rick has done, he came out of the woods with a little bundle of joy. A child of one of the saviors, her parents confirmed dead.

Aaron took to her immediately. But it had never been part of Jesus plan.

Sure he knew how to take care of kids had grown up around many of them in group homes. Didn’t mean he really wanted to be a dad. Just his luck. Finally finds something worth sitting still for and now...Gracie.

First off, he thinks the name is stupid. And it's not going to fit an adult woman. But he wishes that was the biggest problem. He wouldn't have turned her out. He could’ve come to terms with it. Probably in a second. It was the fact that Aaron didn’t even bother to discuss it with him.

He’d known from their talks that he and Eric had tried to adopt many times, it always falling through at the last second. For literally the first time in their relationship, he felt like he was stepping into someone else’s life. And he kinda hates it. Hates himself for feeling that way. As much as he doesn’t want to be he’s angry for Aaron for putting *them* in this position.

He doesn’t even mean to at first, but he spends more time at Hilltop or the Kingdom, even the Sanctuary, the last place he thought he’d ever want to be. He doesn’t think he’s neglecting or avoiding Alexandria. Maybe he’s lying to himself.

It’s not like his heart isn’t with Aaron. His body just feels a weird disconnect, he doesn’t know where his head is but at least it’s not in the past.

Before the baby he did feel a little more confident in his new, healthy outlook. But the past is still the past. He knows this is temporary- not the baby (!), the way he feels.

He'd probably give Aaron anything he wanted. Hell he’s feeling more and more like it’s what he wants too- and not in a bad way. Not like an ‘I’m in the past’ way. But he knows this avoidant behavior is unacceptable. It was ok to take a moment, that was his right. He’s going to have to talk to Tara about this eventually, sooner rather than later.

Maggie, his inspiration, she’s done it again. Because, ironically, the more time he spends with baby Hershel, the more he’s starting to feel like he can do this, and he wants to do this. He just hopes it’s not too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are both sick of fics that pretend like Jesus doesn't have baggage. You don't get like he is from a perfect life. This is my interpretation. Sorry not sorry.


	6. It's Always Darkest Before The Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron gets hurt, Jesus takes care of him

The Saviors that had redeemed themselves had settled in well. That’s what Rick Grimes said. But word had been going around that not all felt the same way. There were some restless *souls* (so to speak) that didn’t want to follow a new leader, that maybe even *liked* the old ways.

At first, the protests were quiet, the grievances were petty but manageable. At least that’s what Jesus had occasionally heard from talks with Daryl or visits with Aaron.

Aaron had his hands full, and was sure that his boyfriend’s situation was probably even more hectic. Paul deserved the time out on his own, free, not tethered to a life that was (although accidentally) a part of Eric and Aaron’s original Five Year Plan. Somehow he knows that the other man’s absence as of late - which he finds entirely excusable, make no mistake - has everything to do with *his* little bundle of joy. He hadn’t specifically designated himself as the child’s ‘step-father’, or really designated his role in this at all...ok, *there’s* the problem. Not Gracie, but Paul’s insecurity about his intended role. Understandable. And Aaron feels like the world’s biggest asshole but, until he can get the slippery little ninja to hold still for five minutes, talking about this will have to wait. Maybe longer than that even because he’s making up his mind, this is Paul’s show, no more making baby sit in the corner... 

Besides, he knew that Paul was coming around to Gracie - more proof of the obvious, asshole - who looks at this situation and blames a baby? Really aaron? He really doesn’t mind the time he has to now share his man (and they’re new in that somewhat delicate stage) with a newborn. He wasn’t quite ready to dive in, and while he hadn’t said it himself (the blond wishes he had just told him - isn’t blaming anybody, definitely not Paul - maybe then, if Aaron had bothered to consult him in the slightest about having a fucking baby things wouldn’t be so obviously ‘off’ between them) this could have gone smoother. 

***

He arrives late, and knows something has gone wrong instantly. It’s a feeling, but not just that- it’s the looks and the avoidance by his closest friends. By the time he reaches Rick and Daryl, once of which is cradling baby Gracie in their arms (her daddy nowhere in sight) Paul knows something is wrong and (rare for him) his heart races.

Rick starts in diplomatically, trying to keep everyone on an even keel, calm, whereas Daryl looks irritated; ready to give the bad news first and accept responsibility the tracker says, “he’s alive, but it ain’t pretty.”

“Where.” Paul is demanding, already trying to remember the techniques taught to him by countless masters of martial arts. Men that could, just like he’d learned and damn well *mastered* himself, prioritize and panic later. He doesn’t panic when there’s a gun to his head. He didn’t panic when Morgan almost impaled his throat on a stick, but he’s panicking now.

All that technique was not fucking working. Hours spent in the dojo, spent meditating, preparing for THIS FUCKING MOMENT...nothing.

“Medical tent. There was no saving it-” Daryl doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Jesus is marching off, watching Enid duck out of the way but stick close enough to be called back in the tent- she knows there will be questions.

Paul doesn’t give a shit right now how this happened; just from the sight of it, he knows it’s bad when he sinks in the chair next to Aaron’s cot. Hand hovering over the injury, not touching, while he looks at the rest of his boyfriend for signs of fever. Meaning infection...meaning...well he doesn’t want to think about that right now...and probably should’ve asked more questions that he didn’t want the answers to, so he won’t. He just has one, calling out at poor Enid, “when can I take him home?”

“Well he’ll be more comfortable there.”

“Daryl, Rick, I know you’re right there. Make it happen. Don’t care how as long as it happens immediately. And damn it Daryl, give me my daughter.”

Rick and Daryl look at eachother, and Jesus notices Aaron crack the tiniest smile and raise an eyebrow. “Your daughter?”

Jesus takes Gracie from Daryl, cradling her and glaring daggers at Enid. “There seems to be something wrong with your patient. He seems to be awake. He should be dead, and if he doesn’t hold still he will be. Why is he lucid.”

“He’s a tough sonuvabitch,” Dixon interjects. 

“Damn right I am.”

“You shut up. You’re unconscious. I’ll deal with you later. Enid will deal with you now.”

They explain that there’d been limited supplies, that...well, Aaron was indeed a *tough* son of a bitch, but Jesus doesn’t want to hear anything that doesn’t begin and end with ‘we’ll knock him out and take him home’.

“Well, is anybody else injured?”

Rick begins, “well…”

“Anybody I give a shit about?”

“Uhh,” is the only response Rick can muster, shocked that the man that cares about everyone and believes in second chances, redemption…

“Ok then. Whatever sedative, narcotic, supply, that you have at your disposal, is to be used exclusively for Aaron. Because let’s get it straight once and for all, he gives more of a shit about any of you than I do. There are 3, maybe 4 names, on the list of people that the medical supplies I know *I* worked my own ass off to scavenge for who will be getting ‘treatment’ until further notice. Your work site seems to have gotten away from you, Rick, let me handle this part while you clean up your mess.”

***

Sunlight filters into the bedroom. Aaron can’t even quantify how long it’s been since he’s been home. He sure as hell can’t fit the pieces together of his recovery, other than some fuzzy memories of an apology from Rick...and something he hopes wasn’t a fever dream of Paul calling Gracie *his* daughter. He might be smiling like an idiot because he’s pretty sure the event was just as real as the fever.

He turns his head, stiff and sore from so much time in bed, ignoring his left side for the moment- losing the arm, he can handle mentally, it’s the frustration of staying in bed and the concern of where he and Paul had been in their relationship when he had the accident that immediately bothers him as the fog begins to clear. He had so much to say and hadn’t gotten the chance.

But there’s the man he loves, holding their daughter and smiling but shushing him when he notices Aaron is awake and lucid. 

Gracie is just finishing her bottle, her little hand grappling at it (oh man she almost has this down on her own!) but dozing in Paul’s arms. 

Aaron watches the other man finish feeding her, laying her over a shoulder draped with a towel, and gently rubbing her back. “There there sweetheart.” He sets her in the bed between them, checking on his boyfriend next, distracting him with the sight of the cooing child while he readies a first aid kid and changes his bandage, comments approving of the rate of recovery along with gentle questions about discomfort, and finally “where’s your head at in all this? Anything you want to talk about, odd sensations? Depression?”

Aaron chuckles. “Hell of a way to wake up, watching you feed our daughter.” Where Paul’s going with this not so subtle avoidance thing, he doesn’t know, doesn’t exactly care if his nurse is always going to look like that in the morning - no shirt, low slung sweats, long hair a beautiful cascading mess...

“So you’re good then?” Paul smirks. He’s been caught. they’re also on the same page about subtle and not so subtle conversation...and it feels so familiar, like before. So perfect, so easy. It hadn’t even been this *fluid* with Eric...

“I had the phantom limb thing once or twice I think...but I’ve been pretty out of it and at the moment I’m blaming the drugs. Overall I’m as positive as I can be about it. Ready to find a way to help you take care of her again soon most of all.” 

“Daryl and Rick both told me what you said to them after the accident babe. I’m glad you’re ok. We do need to talk though. Now that you’re up.”

Aaron sighs. “Shit. I knew this was coming. Subtle flirty Jesus leaving so soon?” 

“Subtle, flirty Jesus? Fickle one, he is, passed him on the stairs, and hey, watch your mouth around our little bundle of joy. Yes, *ours*,” he teases as his smile falters slightly. “I just wanted you to consult me, Aaron. Just a single, simple discussion...I’ve told you more about myself than I’ve told anyone I’ve ever known or cared about. There’s moments I think you know me better than I know myself. And then you…”

“I let you down.” Aaron finishes. It should hurt more to say, sensitive as he tends to be but this is not his moment, it’s not his pain. Its his turn to do the babying a bit, and that starts with taking all kinds of responsibilities, not just the ones that make your new boyfriend’s demons come rushing back from beyond the apocalypse.

“Yes. You did a little.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t wanna interrupt but I have to apologise, I was going to before…”

“I know. It’s forgiven, and not just because you almost died...but I still have to say it,” Paul says. Aaron nods, understanding implicitly. He knows how important it is for his boyfriend to have his voice. “I just...I didn’t want to step into another man’s life and this was *your* plan with your first husband...all the adoptions that fell through, you jumped on this opportunity without even discussing it with me. But I love you...both. I know what to do with a kid, there were plenty of them running around growing up and not nearly enough adult supervision. Wouldn’t toss out an orphan, Aaron. True, I didn’t exactly foresee this path but I didn’t see the dead rising up to eat the rest of us either...I’m getting off track. Point is, I’d have it this way, no other, no matter what...”

“There’s more…” Shifting to get a better look at Paul, pushed back down with one strong firm hand on his chest. Those blue-green eyes telling him in no uncertain terms to take it easy until otherwise told. They’re playful though, as they most often are, and Aaron wants to push it, just a little, see if he can’t get his nurse to at least threaten to ‘hold him down’, ya know, ‘if he has too’...he is *not* asking Enid for medical clearance to fuck, B-T-Dubs.

“There’s one little thing I never told you. I don’t have a middle name.The crack whore who gave birth to me left everything but what *might* have been her last name up to the NICU. So to make up for it...and by the way, when she’s 25 she’s going to *hate* you for ‘Gracie’...I gave her two. And I’m certainly not taking ‘Raleigh’, it’s the name you took with your first husband. And neither is she. She’s my daughter, we aren’t married, what are we gonna do here, baby? That question is entirely rhetorical, by the way.”

“Do I deserve to be clued in?”

“I’m not sure just yet.”

“What if I give you something first?” Aaron asks, not intentionally meaning to imply anything sexual this time but Paul snorts a laugh and looks pointedly at Gracie. “No...I know we’re a ways away from that, and not just because there’s an infant in bed.”

“Actually, you ought to be cleared soon - not by Enid…” God, this man knows him… “By a real doctor, an adult. His name is Siddiq, Carl found him wandering in the forest”

“Is it just me or do the adults around here - “

“Make a habit out of being the not-adult in every adult-y situation. Yes. But still. If you can learn to work around that, and follow instructions. Not just in recovery...but you need to get stronger, you need to make up for the disability. And then I’ll be more than willing to ride you like I stole you.” Aaron swallows hard, hearing that, and is starting to look forward to what he knows will be a long process.

“I’m fine with the last name. Rovia just fits anyway. And my given name was actually Monroe...so…”

“What part of ‘Rhetorical’ is it that you didn’t understand the first time I said it...Hah, yeah no.” Jesus sighs playfully. “I don’t know...I’ll tell you there’s two of them to make up for me not having one at all. First, though, I want to show you something I’ve been working on for you...it’s going to help you get strong, *keep* strong. Of course, you’re not healed enough for it yet and you sure as hell won’t be wearing it anywhere, and not ever to bed, really, if we’re considering safety as a factor...so you’ll have to be the little spoon again for a while-” 

Jesus reaches under the bed. Inside a case there’s a metal prosthetic with several adjustable leather straps. Jesus explains that he’ll have to wear this sock-looking compression garment thing to keep from aggravating the, well, stump and keep the prosthesis from slipping but it’s well made and looks kinda, “*badass*, I can’t wait.”

“First comes a lot of physical therapy. Fortunately for you, that was one of my many (unlicensed) professions before the world ended.” The blond laughs. Paul had told him all about the high end clients at the salon, the costume department for a prestigious theatre group, the yoga studio...the list goes on and he was naturally good at everything he’d done (whether he was a ‘professional’ on paper or not).

“I’m dating a delinquent.”

“Was there ever a question? Gracie,” Paul wrinkles his nose. “Erin Bianca. According to King Zeke, ‘Lady Gracie’. There was a ceremony. The King was sorry you missed it. You can thank him for the lemon blueberry reduction on your pancakes this morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting close to the end. Aaron's original last name a reference to Paul's in the comics. It's really common so we thought it'd be funny if his and Deanna's were the same.


End file.
